The Dance
by NettieC
Summary: Jealousy is a curse and when Jack Keeter comes into town with a plan of sweeping Mac off her feet, Harm's pain at the situation is both figurative and literal.


Disclaimer: Not mine...yada yada yada 

He may have spent his life in the Navy – days and nights spent in blues and whites – but right now he was green; very, very green. Once again, Jack Keeter had just gone into Mac's office and shut the blinds but not before giving Harm a sly wink. Not wanting to cause a scene, Harm turned on his heel and headed for his office before collecting his things and securing for the night. The thought of Mac and Jack together was just too much.

With his relationship status with Mac still floating between friends and 'maybe' something more, Harm had been happy to find his old friend, Jack, would be calling DC home for a few weeks. It would give the pair a chance to catch up, to hang out and maybe have a pick-up game or two. That was until Jack dropped a bombshell on their second night out at a bar.  
"You and Mac," he started just a few sips into his first ale. "Anything to report?"  
"Nope," Harm said with a shake of his head. Even if there was, he doubted he would tell Jack at this stage.  
"Good, good," he mumbled, shaking his head. Now, this wasn't the response Harm had envisioned, he had anticipated a ribbing or some ridicule over his inaction.  
"What do you mean good?" Harm challenged, putting down his glass.  
"Well, you've had a thing for her for what? Five, six years now?" he asked but didn't wait for an answer. "I just figured if it was a real thing...you know, love, you'd have manned up by now and told her."  
"And what's good about that?" he asked, still confused.  
"As you haven't I still have a shot," he said and Harm nearly choked on his mouthful of beer.  
"You?" he asked incredulously. "Have a shot with Mac? Why?"  
"Why?" Jack echoed. "Have you seen her? Man, she gets finer with age...she's got it all...brains, brawn, beauty. Not to mention she just oozes sex appeal." Harm just stared at him. "Figured I was in town for a few weeks and it would be remiss of me not to offer myself to her."  
"You wouldn't!" Harm said, not believing the turn of events. "Mac wouldn't have a bar of you anyway...she knows your history ...wouldn't give you the time of day."  
"Didn't she tell you we had dinner together when she was down in Florida with that Appleby investigation," he said, grinning at Harm's response. "Twice," he added for good measure.  
"No, no she didn't," Harm replied.

That conversation had been two weeks ago and Jack had been a frequent visitor to JAG HQ in that time usually in the waning hours of the day. He would disappear into Mac's office, draw the blinds and re-emerge 20-30 minutes later flushed and looking more than pleased with himself. Harm also knew Mac and Jack had caught up outside of the office, more than once. He had tried to get Mac to divulge the details in a casual conversation but she hadn't the time and this irked him all the more.

Now, on his way home, Harm had moved beyond irked and was in the realms of pissed. Just who did Jack Keeter think he was waltzing into DC and sweeping Mac off her feet? She was his, goddamn it. His! Braking hard at a red light he saw at the last minute, Harm shook his head and muttered a string of profanities. Mac was his and Jack knew it; hell, everyone knew it!

As he drove off after the light turned green, Harm suddenly contemplated the fact that he was very annoyed with his interloper friend but not with Mac. He should be more than annoyed at Mac entertaining his friend at all hours of the day and probably night. He should be more than totally pissed that she was ignoring him in favour of Jack, but somehow he wasn't and he couldn't fathom what it meant.

After another close call in the Friday afternoon traffic, Harm decided it was in his best interest to shelf all thoughts of Jack and Mac until he arrived home.

The drive home did nothing to improve his mood and while he had never been guilty of road rage in the past, there were more than a few idiotic, moronic or imbecilic drivers in his way on this particular night. Throwing open his front door, Harm stormed inside before locking the door behind him. The whole wide world could just go forth and multiply with itself, he thought as he stalked up the three steps and into his bedroom, pulling off his uniform as he went.

The shower had no relaxing or restorative powers so he turned it off, wrapped a towel around his waist and figured a beer might do the trick. Unfortunately, the combination of wet feet, wooden floors and storming about saw him miss the top steps and come down excruciatingly hard on his butt on the bottom step before clattering onto the floor ending up askew. It was time for a few more profanities.

It was only when he went to get up, Harm realised that he had done a little more damage than he expected. While all his limbs were in working order, his back wasn't and trying to twist to get himself up was proving more than a little difficult. With his own 'expert' medical opinion deducing it was nothing major, Harm spent ten minutes trying to manoeuvre himself into a position where he could use the furniture and fittings to help him become vertical; it didn't work.

Realising he would need help, Harm lay there for another few minutes before deciding to call his super; knowing it had to be someone nearby and someone with a key. Wriggling himself to the left, Harm pulled the cord slowly and waited for the telephone to drop down from the counter, hoping to catch it before it hit the floor or his face. Alas, for all his efforts his call went unanswered and Harm reluctantly hung up.

Calling Jen wasn't an option as she had headed to Blacksburg straight from HQ, Bud and Harriet would come in an instant but they had no key. It seemed the only true option was Mac and there was no way, no possible way, he was going to call her and ask for help. There was no way he would until an hour had passed and several more attempts to get up had proved fruitless. Knowing it was Mac or the paramedics who would no doubt bring the fire brigade to break down his door, Harm figured Mac was the lesser of two evils...but not by much.

Swallowing his pride, Harm dialled Mac's cell and waited as patiently as he could. "Hey, Harm," she answered, surprised he was calling her after his rapid departure and peculiar mood of late.  
"Hi, Mac," he said slowly. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said, his annoyance still evident in his voice.  
"How can I help you?" she replied, ignoring both his comment and tone.  
"I...ah...if it's not too much trouble, I need you to come over," he said slowly before adding 'please'.  
"Come over where? To your place?" she asked, not too sure if that's where he was.  
"Ah, yeah," he said. "If it's not too much trouble..." he added again.

Mac's initial response was to say no, she had no plans for the night but as Harm hadn't really given her the time of day of late, being at his beck and call wasn't something she was keen on doing. However, given that he sounded odd and had twice used 'only if it's not too much trouble' in two sentences, she decided something was definitely up.  
"What time were you thinking?" she asked, not wanting him to think she'd drop everything for him. "2000 suits me."  
Harm looked at the kitchen clock; 1836 stared back at him. "Ah, the sooner the better but if 2000 is the earliest then that will be fine," he said before moving and causing a shooting pain to go through his back. This caused an involuntary gasp of pain and Mac was on alert.  
"What's going on, Harm?" she asked directly.  
"I just need you to come over as soon as you can...please..."he said. "And, Mac, let yourself in."

It was 40 minutes later that Mac turned the key in his door and opened it, surprised to find the loft in near darkness.  
"Don't step on me," Harm said, and Mac flicked the light on before rushing to his side.  
"Harm, what on earth..." she said, scanning the area. "Are you alright?"  
"I will be...I just need help to get up," he said reaching out his hands. "I've tried twisting and turning but it hurts too much...I'm thinking if you can just pull me up straight I should be right."  
"What happened?" she questioned, dropping her things on the armchair before coming to stand at his feet.  
"Had wet feet, slipped on the steps and landed here," he said, trying to sound casual about the whole thing but Mac knew better. Harm rarely asked for help, he rarely admitted to pain, so for him to call her in this situation was big.

With no evidence of water anywhere but with his hair damp and mussed, Mac surmised he'd had a shower upon returning home. "How long ago?"  
"Nearly two hours ago," he said, taking both her hands.  
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, feeling guilty she had sat out in her car for at least 15 minutes.  
"Didn't want to put you out," he said, grimacing when he started moving forward.  
"Are you sure you want me to get you up this way?"she asked. "I could call 911."  
"No, no," he said with a shake of his head. "Once I'm on my feet I'll be fine...no drama..."

It took a few minutes and a few attempts but with a final hearty tug, Mac had Harm on his feet. The momentum forced him forward and she caught him in her arms, steadying him against her. "Whoa! Whoa!"she said as she absently patted his back.

Leaning his head on hers, it took Harm a few moments to centre himself once more. Slowly, he released her and gingerly stepped backwards.  
"Thanks for that, Mac," he said, "Appreciate it."  
"Anytime," she replied, studying his face. "Let me get you some water," she said heading to the kitchenette before he could reply. "Do you have analgesics somewhere?"  
"Yeah, in the bathroom cabinet," he replied and Mac went in search of them.

Once Harm had taken them he started walking around the loft trying to loosen up his back and Mac watched every action intently. After a few shoulder and neck rolls, Harm placed his palms flat on his counter and tried to flex his back. It was as he arched his back the towel which had been around his waist dropped and pooled at his feet. It took all Mac's efforts to keep her focus on his face and not let her eyes wander. She knew the instant Harm had realised he was now naked as a crimson shadow graced his cheeks.  
"You're not going to be able to get that, are you?" she asked, biting her lower lip to stop her laughing.  
"Nope," he said, his eyes fixed on the counter.  
"Ah, want me to..." she started to offer before gesturing to the towel.  
"Yep," he said, still not looking at her.

In the three steps it took her to reach him, Mac couldn't help but appraise Harm's body. He may have been flying towards forty but damn the man was in impeccable shape. His skin was taut and flawless and she couldn't help but note that his butt wasn't as hairy as she had imagined, it wasn't hairy at all.  
"Mac...the towel," Harm said when he realised Mac wasn't picking it up.

Stooping down, Mac grabbed the blue fabric but upon standing once more she noticed the horizontal bruising apparent across Harm's lower back or, to be more exact, his butt.  
"No wonder you're in pain, Harm," she said, gently touching the bruising. "Are you sure you haven't damaged the coccyx?"  
"It'll be fine, Mac...the towel...please," he said, glad she couldn't see the embarrassment on his face.  
"No, you need ice," she said, handing his the towel.

Heading back to the kitchenette, Mac used a large ziplock bag to fashion an icepack. Wrapping it in paper towel to avoid it damaging his skin, Mac brought it back to him before scanning his body once more.  
"Can you sit?" she asked, before answering "No" herself. "Okay, then," she took him by the hand and led him up the steps to his bedroom. "Lie face down on the bed and I'll put the pack in place."  
"Mac, it's really not necessary," he protested but none to convincingly.  
"Ice pack or Bethesda," she said simply and waited for his response.  
"Fine," he muttered before kneeling on his bed before slowly lowering himself down. "Son of a ..." he muttered when the ice pack touched his skin.  
"Oh, it's not that bad," Mac chided before adjusting his quilt over him and rubbing his hair.

For a few minutes nothing was said until Harm couldn't hold his tongue.  
"I really appreciate all you have done, Mac, but you should go," he said, turning his head to face her.  
"I'm not going," she replied. "At least not yet."  
"I don't want to keep you from...other things," he said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice; he didn't succeed.  
"What other things?" Mac challenged; she knew he had a bee in his bonnet about something, perhaps now she would find out exactly what it was.  
"Well, it's Friday night, Jack was in your office earlier...thought you two may have made...plans," he said and watched as she moved from where she had been standing to kneeling at the opposite side of the bed so she could face him eye-to-eye.  
"You're jealous," she said with a grin.  
"No, I'm not," he lied folding his arms and resting his chin on them.  
"Yes, you are," she said with a shake of her head. "Sorry if you think I've been monopolizing his time. I'm sure he'll be free sometime over the weekend if you're up to it."  
"What?" Harm said trying to sit up but the pain keeping him in the same position.

Instinctively, Mac's hand rubbed his shoulder in an attempt to soothe him. "I just meant there was no need to be jealous of me spending time with Jack. I'm sure he has time for you too."  
"I'm not jealous of you, I'm jealous of him," he said without thinking and then dropped his face.  
"Why are you jealous of him?" Mac asked, her eyes widening. With his face down and head still on his arms, Harm shook his head; nope, he didn't want this conversation. "Harm? Hey?"

Pushing up on his arms, Harm tried to shuffle backwards so he could stand once more. However, the action dislodged the icepack which in turn dislodged the towel which had been keeping it in place. Trying to grab the ice pack with one hand and the towel with the other saw Harm lose his balance and fall face first back onto his bed. Mac was on her feet and hovering over him.  
"You are going to cause yourself more damage if you don't take it easy," she warned, repositioning the ice pack. "Just relax, okay." She rubbed his back as he muttered something into his bed covers. "What did you say?"  
"Nothing," he said, turning his head to her. "At least nothing I want to repeat."

After spending the next 15 minutes in awkward silence, Mac declared it was time to take the ice pack off and Harm readily agreed. After Mac helped him off the bed, he declared it was all much better and she should go.  
Stepping right up to him, Mac looked intently at him. "Harmon, if you really want me to go then I will. I don't want to impose myself on someone where I am not welcome."  
"You're not imposing and you're always welcome, you know that," he said, his hands keeping a firm grip on his towel.  
"Then why do you keep insisting I leave?" she challenged.  
"I just ...well, you and Jack..." he said, shaking his head.  
"What exactly do you think is happening between Jack and me?" she asked, raising his face when he dropped his head once more. "Harm?"  
"I know..." he said slowly. "And I want to be alright with it but I'm not."  
"What is it you know?" she asked confused.  
"That you and Jack are ... well, I don't know if you're actually dating but you're certainly 'seeing' each other," he said with a sigh.  
"And by seeing do you actually mean sleeping together?" she questioned trying so hard not to smile.  
"Well, yeah," he said turning from her. "It's none of my business though and ..."  
"No, Harm, it isn't any of your business," she confirmed, holding onto his arm and moving to be in front of him once more. "But in the interests of disclosure and so you don't hurt yourself any further, Jack and I have never slept together and are not 'seeing' each other in any capacity."  
"Bull," he retorted without thinking. "All those sessions in your office with the blinds drawn...lots of movement. Jack coming out all flushed and looking pleased with himself..."

With that, Mac laughed out loud and Harm's frustration grew; now she was laughing at him. "Glad you think it's funny."  
"You are very cute when you are jealous, Flyboy," Mac said with a laugh.  
"So you admit, there is something to be jealous of," he answered back, shaking his head.  
"No, there's not," she said slowly. "But you do not believe me, do you?"  
"I believe you," he said his eyes darting, "It's Keeter I don't trust."  
"Just what has Jack been saying?" she asked, wondering if she would have to take him to task.  
"You don't want to know," Harm replied. "Let's just say cosy little sessions in your office spoke volumes."  
"I was giving Jack..." she started and Harm put his hand up.  
"No, I don't want to hear it," he said, side stepping her and moving away. "It's not my business."  
"Dance lessons, Harm. I was giving Jack dance lessons."  
Harm spun around as fast as his current state would allow him. "Dance lessons?"  
"Dance lessons," Mac repeated. "Jack is planning on taking Daphne to some expensive restaurant tomorrow night and proposing."  
"Daphne? Proposing? What?" Harm shook his head utterly confused.  
"Daphne Miller," Mac replied. "They've been dating for a while now. She loves dancing; he has two left feet, so he asked me for a couple of quick lessons."  
"Dance lessons?" He was still incredulous.  
"Yes, Harm," she said, shaking her head and moving towards the steps. "I'm a great dancer and Jack just needed a few pointers."

With that Mac descended the steps and headed to the kitchenette to get some coffee. Harm took a few moments to let Mac's disclosure sink in before swapping his towel for some red checked boxers. When he appeared on the steps, Mac watched his every move and noted he seemed a little freer in his movements. Her biggest observation, however, was just how incredible he looked in those boxers.  
"Can I get you some coffee?" she finally asked when she found the ability to talk once more.  
"No, thanks," he answered. "Have you eaten?"  
"No," she said with a shake of the head. "You?"  
"Ah, no, I was a bit incapacitated," he said with a small laugh.  
"As you're not up to going out..." Mac decided for him. "How about we order pizza?"  
"Sounds good," he replied. "Meatlovers for you, of course..." he said as he picked up his cell from the coffee table.  
"Of course." She grinned.

While they waited there was small talk until Mac noticed the goosebumps on Harm's arms. "You're getting cold," she observed. "Let me get your robe for you."  
Returning quickly, she helped him put it on before pulling it closed and tying the belt. "I could have managed that," he said with a laugh.  
"Think you can manage something else?" she said, feeling a little bold.  
"Sure," he said; although he wasn't at all sure he was capable of much.  
"Dancing with Jack was okay but you were always my favourite dance partner," she admitted.  
"There's no music," he commented even as he stepped towards her.  
"That's okay," she replied. "You're injured so we can just set our own pace."

It wasn't long before they had melted into each other's arms and were gently swaying to their inner music; slow, rhythmic movements which equated to gentle rocking rather than dance steps. Knowing they wouldn't have too much time before the delivery guy interrupted, Harm decided to take a step forward.  
"I don't want you dancing with Jack anymore," he said causing Mac to look up at him.  
"I told you it was only..." she started to protest as she moved back.

Shaking his head, Harm drew her closer once more. "I know...I don't want you dancing with Jack anymore," he repeated. "I don't want you dancing with anyone else either."

With that Mac stepped back; just what was he saying.  
"I want you...I would like you...to consider just dancing with me," he said, reaching out for her hands once more. "We do it so well...we could do other things so well..."  
"Harm, we argue all the time," she reminded him even as her heart was racing in anticipation.  
"We do, and we do it well," he said with a smile. "Don't you think?"  
"Yeah, we do," she agreed. "So what are you actually saying? You want to dance with me exclusively?"  
"Dance...date... he said slowly. "Dine..." he added when there was a knock on the door.

After collecting the pizzas and shutting the door, he turned back to Mac. "I don't want to preempt anything, Mac," he said as he placed the boxes on the table. "But I don't want to sit on the sidelines while someone swoops in and steals you away. I don't want someone else to be the reason you shut your office blinds. I don't want..." Mac shook her head and Harm stopped. "What?"  
"I don't want ...I don't want ...I don't want..." she said, using the starting words of all his recent sentences. "What is it you do want?"  
"You," he said simply. "I want you." For several minutes Mac said nothing and when Harm could wait no longer he spoke once more. "Well?"  
"You have me," was her reply. "You have me."

And while the evening entailed nothing more than dinner, gentle dancing and further ice packs, finally they were on the same page and about to start the most beautiful of dances; one that would last until the end of time.


End file.
